The Last Smile
by wonderland07
Summary: All rights to DC. I don't own anything, though I wish I did. Back at the Asylum, Harley was also injected with Titan - she was one of the last of Joker's experiments as punishment for her being unable to beat Batman in the Cell Block. But now in Arkham City it just so happens that she is the one who has overdosed and she is the one who is slowly dying.
1. Chapter 1

The Last Smile

I stare at the celling, counting the grubby panels that are in need of a good wash and imagine that I am outside, gazing at the stars and letting the snow flakes fall onto my face, cooling my skin. For I am too hot. Although the Steel Mil is our new home, and a bloody good one at that (since it is easy to guard and far enough away from the other gangs to avoid too much confrontation), it is still operational, which means that the steam produced heats the place up so much it feels like Africa.

I take a deep breath. I really need to get some shut eye, hell we both do, its been weeks since we got a decent sleep but the heat in the room basically makes it impossible, not to mention the incessant beeping. I look across at the person lying next to me, sound asleep. How can they sleep through that noise? Suddenly I feel panic begin to rise in my chest. What if the beeping wakes them up, they need all the sleep they can get and I feel anxious at the thought of them being woken by a stupid beeping machine.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It is beginning to really piss me off. I look at the annoying machine, glaring at it and hoping it would burst into flames, but it doesn't. It just beeps.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The god damn thing is mocking me. I send it another death glare as my trepidation rises.

I take another deep breath trying to calm myself, but it doesn't work. Perhaps I should just turn it off. I look across at it - there doesn't seem to be an off switch, so I reach down to the side of the bed and pull out the first thing I find.

A hammer.

_How ironic_, I think, as I raise it above my head. But the person next to me begins to stir. Oh no, I think and put down the hammer as quickly and as quietly as I can, before lying very still. It works, the person stops moving and carries on sleeping.

I breath a sigh of relief. That was close.

I bring my hand up to my face and rub my eyes. I'm so tired. I glance across at the sleeping form next to me, wishing I could fall asleep just as easily. But I can't - my thoughts are constantly moving and I have things to think about. Things I can't bother the other person with.

Well maybe this once.

I look across at them again. They look so peaceful. They're skin is so white and although they're lips are chapped and sore, I still find them loverly. I raise my hand out to touch them when a voice inside my head screams _No!_ I pause. _Why? _At that moment I realize how I am about to do something terrible, like lifting the lid off Pandora's box. But I can't help it, I untangle myself from all the wires which are hooked up to the beeping machine and in one swoop, I am spooning them from behind with my arm around their thin waist and my head resting on their shoulder as I breath in the sent of them.

I feel their body stiffen in my arms (this is something I very rarely do), but their hand comes and rests on top of mine as a sign of acceptance.

Obviously someones isn't as asleep as I thought.

I take a steady breath, god this could go so wrong. _You'll regret it_, a little sing song voice in my head warns, but I ignore it and whisper in their ear, _I'm afraid_.

I feel them rub their thumb across my knuckles, _Of what? _They ask.

_Of what is going to happen. _I tighten my grip on their waist and they shift uncomfortably. We haven't laid like this in a long time - we never were particularly affectionate, but our relationship was one of a kind and it somehow worked for us.

And I know that there isn't long left for us to just be us.

And as I feel the rough skin under my fingers, I realize how much we have both changed since the events of Arkham Asylum.

Well, not me. I'll always be the same.

But to feel peeling, rotten skin flaking away under my hands, rather than the soft smoothness that I am used to makes me so angry.

I made her this way.


	2. Chapter 2

The Last Smile

'_Dum De Dum De De. A touch of red...a touch of green. A little shake...woops!' His voice echo's around the room, mixed with his giggles, sending chills down the spins of those who have come for the toxin injection. 'A touch of this...a drop of that'._

'_Another failure', he sighs, 'oh well, send in the next one'. _

'_Hey Boss', his victim greets. 'Hello there', he smiles back. 'Take a seat, this will only take a moment'. _

'_What does this thing do anyway?' _

_He turns his back so his victim can not see his sinister smile. 'Just something to make you bigger, stronger'. And he jabs the need into the young man's arm. 'Ow', the man yelps as it punctures his skin, before his pitiful whines morph into screams of pain as his bones bend and break to allow the titan formula mutate his body. _

'_Oooooh exciting isn't it?' He asks, his voice high with excitement. _

'_But it hurts', the man complains and with that, the bones rip through his chest and spine, effectively ending his life. _

'_Oh well', he cackles. 'Send in the next patient' , kicking the mutated corpse out of his way to the side of the room. Then adds to one of his henchmen, 'And get that thing out of here'. _

_But he didn't expect his next patient. Her blonde hair was falling out of her pigtails and the dark make up around her eyes was running down her face as evidence of her crying. His smile faltered slightly. _

'_Harley', he greeted in his syrupy voice. _

'_Oh Puddin', she whimpers. 'I'm so sorry'. She runs towards him and throws her arms around his neck. 'I tried my best to stop the Bat, but he's always better than me'. _

'_Well that's not hard is it?' He shouts, ripping himself out of her vice like grip. 'You worthless little...' He notices the vile of formula he hasn't tested yet, sitting on his desk and turns back to her, a smile spreading across his face. _

'_Harley', he begins again. 'Are you really sorry Pooh?' He changes his voice back to being sweet. _

'_Oh yes Puddin', she says grabbing the front of his jacket and burrowing her face in it. 'I'm so so so sorry, please don't be angry with me'. _

'_Well, I suppose I might let you off the hook'. She looks up at him, her eyes shining with tears. 'Will you do something for me?' _

'_Yes, yes. Anything', she says desperately, as he takes in her appearance - her make up needed reapplying, her hair needed retying and the pathetic look she was giving him made him feel sick to the stomach. Why did he keep her around again? She was too pathetic for her own good - she'd be no good for a titain monster. He was just about to let her go and make sure his party orders were being obeyed, when he snapped. Who the hell was she to make him feel forgiveness, to let her off the hook - he was better than her, a thousand times better and some sniveling little girl wasn't going to get away without some form of punishment for her ridiculous failure at trying to stop the Bat. He grabs the vile containing his formula and jabs it into her arm as hard as he can._

_Her screams of pain and surprise fill the room as she pushes herself away from him and yanks out the needle._

'_What have you done?' She shouts, her voice rising to a level of hysteria. 'What have you given me?' But then she doubles over, 'Oh my god it hurts'. She clutches her chest as her body gives out and starts to convulse on the floor, blood pouring out of her eyes and mouth and the sound of her bones cracking and snapping fill his ears. Her face twists in agony as the muscles in her arms and legs double, then triple in size and finally her pale blue eyes which held so much innocence, turn a bright fluorescent green. _

_He watches as the monster he created rips away the remaining clothing that hasn't already being torn and lets out low growls and grunts. _

_He can't stop the onslaught of giggles- it worked! His formula has finally worked! Thank god Harley was good for one thing. He takes out a feather from his pocket and tickles the side of its ribs. It lashes out at him trying to grab the feather, but hits its head on the celling as it tries to stand up. Some things never change. _

_He is just about to bask in his genius when the monster falls back to the floor, lumps of its body rippling here and there as Harley begins to transform back into herself. The low growls become high pitched screams as her body knits itself back together. She convulses on the floor as the vertebrae of her spine return the their vertical state and her muscles begin to slowly shrink. Finally, once the final bright light has left her eyes, she lays there, still and unmoving with blood splotches covering her now naked body since her clothes were torn away in the mutation. _

_He walks towards her, wondering what it was that caused her to change back when all of the other experiments either killed his victims straight away as they changed, or later when the toxin became too much for them to handle. _

_He nudged her with his foot. 'Harley'. _

_She moaned, so he nudged her a little harder and said 'Harley', louder. _

_She opened her eyes, they were no longer a light baby blue, but a shade of green, almost like the sea. _

_But then they change, turning back into the fluorescent green and she reaches out to grab him around the neck and opens her mouth to reveal razor sharp teeth, she leans towards him and..._

He snaps his eyes open, breathing heavily with sweat making his shirt stick to him. He is lying on his back with one arm twisted to support his head. He looks across expecting to see the object of his dream sleeping next to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his and her blonde hair falling into her eyes, but there is just an empty space.

Ah yes, he is back in Arkham thanks to the Dork Knight and his never ending hero act. He rubs his eyes sleepily, god he wishes he could sleep, his head is pounding and his eyes itch like hell. He focuses on the flickering light outside of his cell in patient isolation - he recently look a spoon and gouged out someones eyes - but he can't shake the memory of her transforming into that _thing_, of her screaming in pain, usually he loves to hear her scream, hell, anyone scream - its like music to his ears, but for some reason, as he watched her morph from a monster back into herself, those screams sounded different. More intense.

He wonders where she is. She can't be in patient isolation since he was already here and the doctors go to great lengths to keep them away from each other - god knows why, they can both cause vast amounts of chaos without each other. Well, he can.

She must be in her usual cell, the one in extreme incarceration back in the penitentiary, probably yapping on about how cruel he has been to her or about how much she loves him. Yes, that'll be it. He's just about to think of which of his perfect qualities she could be talking about, when he hears voices travel under the cracks of his cell door. As the approach he can tell they are in fact whispers.

"Yeh, I know". The voices can only be the guards doing their evening rounds.

"That's what I heard. Just think. A new Arkham, one where we don't have to do anything. They'll be someone else's problem". He hears a low laugh.

"What about our jobs?"

"To be honest, I'm looking forward to a normal desk job. At least I'll survive until Christmas".

The voices fade as they walk pass his cell. A new Arkham eh. What's ol' Sharpie been up to.


	3. Chapter 3

The Last Smile

It's been 12 meals, 3 escaped straight jackets and 1 mutilated nurse since he heard about Sharpie's plans for a new Arkham Asylum. The nurse had to write out what she knew since she could no longer talk with half a tong and no teeth, but he wouldn't consider it an afternoon wasted. He's also heard something about old Quincy being elected as Mayor of Gotham - it took most of the night for him to calm down after his laughing fit and the thought still tickles him. One puzzling thought does plague him every now and then though, if Sharpie isn't running Arkham Asylum, then who is?

They have given up with the straight jackets - they're nothing against him anyway - but have placed him in one of the cages usually reserved for Croc in the transport system.

When he had the nurse pinned to the floor of the secure transit booth, she had been holding a prescription for Quetiapine - the back of which she had scribbled down all she knew of the new Arkham - and which is now neatly folded in the waistband of his boxers. In his new cell, there are no cameras (Croc always said they gave him indigestion after he'd managed to swallow them), so he feels safe enough to pull out the bloody piece of paper and try to decipher what the nurse had written - which is harder than it looks since its covered in dark red splotches. He makes a mental note to only be creative _after _he has the inside scoop.

From what he can make out, the events of his little Island takeover got the attention of an outside source to fund a new Arkham, apparently the island will be left to rot and new guards from some organization will be replacing the current ones. _How...fun_. He can hardly read the writing, but it says something about the new Asylum bing part of Gotham city and that the inmates will be mixed with prisoners from Blackgate. He smiles, at least he'll have some of his boys around to make things interesting. He stuffs the piece of paper back into his boxers and lays back to think about new ways to be intimidating without vast amounts of blood loss from victims, when suddenly the cage rattles and he is jerked forwards from the force of it being moved - he rolls over, determined not be outmaneuvered by some cage and manages to get comfortable in the corner where he keep stable and still look cool as a cucumber. The cage shakes again - must be stopping he wonders and places his hands behind his head as the door lets out a low hiss and bright light fills the dimly lit cage.

"Ah", he smiles his biggest smile. "Light, at last. It's been so dark in there", he pouts. "I was getting lonely". Th guards standing outside his cell all point their guns on him.

"Shut it Clown", one says. "Get out and start moving".

He pretends to look hurt. "Get out? But where will I go? What will I do? You want me to just.."

"Yeh yeh yeh", another guard interrupts. "Just step out of the cell and put your hands in front of you so I cuff them".

"Cuff them?" He giggles. "But we've not even had dinner".

He feels a gun being slammed into the back of his knees, causing him to fall to the ground. The guards think its a trick and one by one pounce on him, tackling him to the ground.

"Really", he says as he feels a boot on his spine and an elbow on his neck. "I'm not into this sort of thing". Eventually he feels weight being lifted from him and is dragged up into a sitting position to be forced into a wheelchair with electrodes around the sides. "I can walk you know", he says dangerously. The guards glance at one another, until one takes charge and says, "Just get him out".

He is wheeled through the transfer loop towards the entrance of intensive treatment, where a large SWAT van is waiting, with huge steel doors revealing a space for his wheelchair to be chained to the sides of the van.

"So this the new Arkham?" He asks. "Gotta say, it's much more cosy". They all ignore him and carry on wheeling him outside.

Harley Quinn sat alone in Extreme Incarceration. Everyone else have been moved out but never return. Her and Mr Freeze were the only ones left and Mr Freeze was muttering bout something, probably his wife, so she was left laying on her bed and staring at the wall, wondering about her Mr J. She closed her eyes imagining him; his deadly smile, his wild hair and especially his soft white gloves. As she lets her imagination wander, she allows her hands to trace small circles up her arms to her chest, she lets out a small sign wishing it was her Puddin' who was gently caressing her. Not that her often did, but a girl and dream right? She allowed her other hand to wander up her legs, like his would sometimes do, but stopped as she reached her inner thigh. Something was wrong. She could feel a lump. She touched it again, pressing a little harder, but this time it stung. She bolted upright, tearing off her jumpsuit and spreading her legs so she could see what was causing the pain - perhaps it was just a trapped nerve, god knows she's had thousands after her little _episode_, as the Joker calls it, back in the lab.

As she looked down, her eyes widened considerably. The patch of skin, that was usually so soft and smooth, looked like a deep purple wart. She snapped her legs closed, praying it was her poor imagination running wild without her Puddin'. Yes that was it. Her overactive mind was playing tricks on her to help keep her thoughts away from Mr J and how much she missed him. She stepped back into her orange jumpsuit and laid back down on the bed, closing her eyes - it would all be better in the morning.

But it wasn't. She awoke with a searing pain down the left arm and across her shoulder. Thinking it was just the way she had been sleeping, she rolled over and moved her arm across her chest, trying to stimulate the blood flow. It was then she caught sight of the terrible rash that was on the underside of her arm, peaking out of the sleeve of her jumpsuit. She cautiously rolled up the sleeve, gently peeling back the cuff to see what was wrong. The sight sickened her and almost caused her to vomit. Her skin was an angry shade of red, covered in lumps and bumps of blistering skin, some parts had started to peel, whilst others where beginning to scab, leaving small patches of white dead skin.

She brought her hand back to her chest, pulling down the sleeve of her Arkham Asylum outfit and tried to keep her breathing level. It was just a rash. A small pathetic little rash that would only last a few days, it was probably something in the water, from when she had a shower. Possibly some toxin from Ivy's plants that she's just reacted too.

But a small voice inside her head kept nagging at her, saying how she was immune to any toxin's since Ivy gave her that inject a few years back.

'It's new one', she thought. 'A new toxin brought on from the Titain strain Joker injected her with'.

It's still a toxin, the voice said. A toxin, which you shouldn't have any problems with, since it's still bonded to Ivy's system.

"So what is wrong with me?" She asked allowed, placing her head in her hands in exasperation.

She must have fallen asleep like that, for the next time she opened her eyes, it was to the sound of a guard rapping his gun against her cell bars.

"Rise and shine, its shower time", he sang as the other guards stood behind him laughed.

'They seem so happy', she thought as she gave them a cold stare whilst standing up. 'Might have to do something about that later'.

The procedure was easy - she'd done it a thousand times. Stand against bars facing the opposite wall with hands placed behind her back and grasp the bars as they put the hand cuffs on. That way when the bars separate to open the cell she is still cuffed. Not that would stop her. Once she felt the warmth of the guards hands on her arms, guiding her threw the security and passed more guards to the showers, she felt another pain. This time it was in her chest, a tight feeling in her heart and causing her breathing to increase. She looked down so her hair fell into her, blocking her wince from the eyes of the guards stood around and the cameras following her every move. A jolt of pain caused her stop walking and gasp.

"Keep moving", the guards ordered and pushed her to make her walk.

She felt the pain increase and bit her lip from crying out.

'Perhaps I'm having a heart attack', she thought. 'Perhaps I shall die from being parted from my Mr J'.

By the time they reached the showers, Harley had bitten her way through her bottom lip and blood was collecting in her mouth, but she couldn't let anyone know something was wrong. So she kept her cold glare as she took a towel from them and stepped into the shower room.

There were no cameras in the showers - it was the prisoners one aspect of privacy. So she felt it was safe enough to remove her jumpsuit and look at the rest of her body in the mirror. What she saw made her breath quicken further and the pain in her chest become more intense. There were patches of the same lumps and bumps all over her, the largest was on her shoulder, just below the neck, but small areas covered her arms and legs and a small clutter covered the small of her back. Thankfully there wasn't any on her face, but the patch of her shoulder was dangerously close to been seen if it grew any bigger.

She decided that some cold water might calm her skin a little and after she was finished showering, had a good feeling that whatever it was would a least be a little smaller. She looked again after toweling herself dry. Nope, just the same. 'Probably needs times to cool down', she thought on her way back to her cell.

But she was the only one there.

"Hey, where's the ice box?" She asked. The guards ignored her. "Oi", she called again. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

The guards pushed her back into her cell and the slam of the bars crossing shut told her once more that she was alone. She watched as the guards walked away, towards the main cell block. That alone is strange, as there is usually a few up in the watch room to keep any eye across the cels and ensure they are all locked through the controlled systems.

But as she watches them leave, she realizes how truly alone she is. Sneaking a peak up at the watch room, she notices how empty it looks, there should be shadows moving around at least. She sticks her arm out through the bars - this would defiantly get a reaction from the guards (probably thinking she's escaping), but nothing. She waves just to make sure.

'What gives', she thinks. Things are getting weird and the pain in her chest returns as she begins to panic. She looks around her cell for some possible way out, now that the guards are gone and no one is watching it should be easy to find some vantage point, but as she stands up, this gas suddenly pours from the celling in her cell, filling the room with dense smoke so thick she can hardly breath.

Then it hits her. She can't breath. The gas is making it hard for her to physically take a breath. She clutches her chest, desperatly trying not to choke, when the lack of oxygen makes her feel light headed, she falls to the floor, grasping onto the wall for support, but it is too much effort and her arms drop to her sides. She starts to see stars, small black stars dancing in her vision. Her eyes feel tired. And then darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, but I've been on holiday and then getting ready to go back to College and everything. Anyway please enjoy :) x

The Last Smile

As they drive over another god damn bump in the road and his body is knocked into the side of his wheel chair, he sighs. Obviously this is Strange's not so strange plan to get him into the new Arkham, but really, it is very discourteous to have someone chained to a wheelchair, stick them in the back of a van, chain them to the walls of said van and drive like lunatics through the streets.

Another bump and he grits his teeth. 'Who the bloody hell do they think they are?' He asks himself as his head is thrown side to side and they go round a corner. 'I'll kill every last one of them for this, the Joker does not travel chained like some rabid dog'.

He is just thinking of the many ways he could kill his so called guards with the chains tied around his wrists, when he is suddenly jolted forwards and feels his neck click. Ah, they must have arrived. He feels a prang of excitement start to bubble in his chest. A new Arkham means a new playground, a new place to spread his joy. He smiles as he hears the doors to the van being unbolted and the mumble of voices outside. One of the guards comes in to unchain him from the van, whilst another beings to wheel him out.

Outside, there are large metal doors over 4 stories high with huge bolts and electrical currents passing through - he can hear the buzz. There is barbed wire covering the fences along with marks painted on the floor directing where to go. Apart from the clear indication that this is the entrance to where ever he is, is doesn't look too bad - just another part of Gotham city. Perhaps it was all a prank and there actually isn't a new Arkahm.

The movement of his rolling backwards brings him back.

"It's not so bad having people wheel you around you know," he comments to the guard.

"Shut up",replies the guard.

"Now really", he says in a joking tone. "Have I touched a nerve? Does it make you feel degraded knowing that you have to push me around... like a nanny?" He can't help but laugh as the guards around him blush a deep crimson and look at each other for a sign on how to respond and he laughs even harder.

"Now that is enough Mr Joker", comes a deep voice from behind him. He stops laughing, insulted that someone would dare interrupt his fun.

"Mind wheeling me around boys so I can get a good look at the next man whose tongue I'm going to rip out?"

He hears a chuckle. "That won't be necessary, you may leave now". The guards give him a passing glance as they climb back into the van and rive off. He hears the clanking and rattling as huge doors open up to let the van pass through and gives a low whistle.

"Now this is some security", he says, straining his neck around to see his next victim.

"Indeed it is", comes the voice. "I have every intention of making this facility the first and best of it's kind. It will be my legacy".

"Well don't toot your horn too soon, ducky. I'm one of a kind - if your thinking of keeping me caged up all day like those twits back at the Asylum, you've got another thing coming".

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it Mr Joker", replies the voice. "That is not what I intend. In hear you'll have your own freedom to do what you wish and no one will stop you. You can do whatever takes your fancy and there will be no repercussions for your actions. In fact, I'm quite looking forward to observing you in your new surroundings and how you cope".

"Bit of a perv on the quite then", he jokes. "Don't worry chicken, I'll make sure to put on a good show for you".

"I do hope so, in fact that is why I had you brought to me first. I had hoped to become acquainted with you so we could get to know each other a little better... perhaps help each other".

"What's the catch?" He asks, tilting he head back in hope to see who is standing behind him.

"No catch Mr Joker, I simply wish to study you, to find out about your past and what makes you tick. What your dreams and wishes are. What you fear. Basically what makes you the Joker".

What the duche? He had not being expecting that one. True all doctors wanted to poke and prod at him, each claiming a different diagnosis for his 'illness', but this out shines them all.

"Do you really?" He laughs. "Well sugar, your not the first".

His laughter dies down to a manic grin as the man behind him slowly walks into his line of vision.

And boy does he look the part.

He was tall and beefy, with a bald head but a rather bushy grey beard, his white lab coat was buttoned all the way to his neck and he wore thick black leather gloves, as well as thick round glasses. His overall appearance making him look remarkably like a stereotypical 'Mad Professor'.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes", he giggles at the man.

"I'm in no mood for your jokes Mr Joker".

"In no mood for jokes!" He cries, faking outrage. "And I thought I was the crazy one!"

"Im Dr Hugo Strange", replies the man, standing a little taller, apparently very proud of himself. "Im in control of this detention facility... My new Arkham City...and I'm offering you a deal".

"Not for nothing you ain't", he smirks, leaning back in his wheelchair. "If you get to 'study me', what do I get?"

The good doctor smiles. "I'll give you the...how shall we say this...resources...you'll be needing".

"I don't need no resources", he shouts, insulted at the doctors remark.

"You don't, but someone else might".

"What you getting at Strange? What do I care of the other wacko's in this place!"

"Oh I'm sure there must be someone who you might wish to...protect", he says, elongating the last word in his deep voice.

He pretends to look thoughtful. "Nope", he says. "Can't think of anyone".

"You try my patients Mr Joker. I'm well aware that you'll be needing my help if you wish for her to live".

"Her?" He asks, not able to keep the confusion out of his voice. Who the hell was this werido in a coat talking about?

"Oh I see", Strange replies. "You don't know. What a shame. Well... the deal still stands if you... eventually... find out. Good day Mr Joker, I'm sure we will be meeting again very soon. Guards".

He ignores the self satisfied smirk plastered across Strange's face as men in full padded amour come to take him away.

"Oh yes", Strange calls to him. "These are my new TYGER guards, they'll be... taking care of you".

He takes a look at the guards currently surrounding him as he is wheeled to an electric gate down a make shift passage of barbed wire, and realizes how suited up they are, with their extra body covers and fully automatic weapons. Strange must be expecting trouble.

"Nothing like a walk through some barbed wire", he calls to the guards. They ignore him and carry on until they stop at a large automatic door. One of the guards comes towards him and unlocks his restraints. He hears the click of the safety catches unlocking from the guards guns and can see the red lines of sniper rifles cover his body as he stands up.

"Hey look guys, I could have chicken pox!" The guards throw him dirty looks. One tosses him a package particularly hard, obviously trying to knock him over with the force of it.

"No such luck Sonny Jim", he giggles, knowing the guards intention.

He feels the head of a gun between his shoulder blades as he forced to walk forwards.

A guard pulls out a small deciphery thing and fiddles with it until the doors in front hiss and unlock, where there is more barbed wire.

But as they open he can see... Gotham?

He laughs. "Ahhh, to be let lose among the innocent citizens of Gotham again, is it Christmas already?"

The TYGER guards laugh. "No such luck".

And then the doors close, separating him from the guards and Strange and everything he once knew, leaving him alone in Arkham city with nothing but silence and snow.


	5. Chapter 5

So after weeks of planning and worrying and organizing, I've made through my first month of College and have made time to write another chapter.

Please enjoy. xx

The Last Smile

Her head was pounding. The feeling of nausea making her feel dizzy and disoriented as she concentrated on not throwing up the contents of her stomach.

She cracked one eye open, but all she could see was a blinding white light which made her head ache even more. She groaned, brining her hand up to the side of her face to rub her eyes, when she heard a voice.

"Hey guys she's waking up!"

"Ok boys, just like we rehearsed. Guns on her at all times".

'What the hell' she thought, making to sit up, but something was stopping her. She forced her eyes open. Once the white light had cleared she could see she was in some kind of room. It looked to be made out of tin and had a chain with a hook hanging from the celling. She turned her head to the side, seeing her reflection in a large wall length mirror, where she could see herself strapped to one of the beds often used in Arkham Asylum to keep the more restless inmates still while they were being transported.

She was also glad to notice that whoever had brought her here had the decency to leave her in the Arkham jumpsuit, but for some reason, had taken her shoes.

"Prisoner 11379 has regained consciousness", a voice said. "I repeat, Harley Quinn has regained consciousness".

She heard to click of the safety being switched off guns and a slight muffle as someone shifted from one leg to another, but the light above her was so bright she could not see anything except her own reflection in the mirror.

"Good", came a dull voice over a radio. "Send her out".

"Just as we rehearsed remember", said someone, much closer than she expected. And then she felt the bed being moved, saw a group of guards dressed in black armor emerge from the shadows of the room and wheel her out.

Being strapped to the bed meant that she could only move her head, but what she saw was enough to spark some anxiety, causing her to wriggle against her restraints, for to her left was a large screen with a man dressed in white overalls peering curiously at her and underneath was a man trying to claw his way through the wall, pleading to be let out.

"Ah", said the man on the screen, sitting back in a chair. "I see your awake my dear".

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What the hell is this?" She shouted, struggling against the straps even more and ignoring the way the room seemed to spin.

"Guards", said the man, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his overalls. "Would you be so kind as to leave us. Oh and take Mr Hale with you. His psycho evaluation has been complete and there is nothing more I can do for him."

"Yes Sir", said one guard, walking over to the man at the wall and dragging him across the floor and out of sight.

"Now we are alone my dear, I would like to take this time to get to know you".

"Get to know me?" She asked. "You should already know me. Now tell me what I'm doing here."

"All in good time my dear, all in good time," said the man. "But first I think we should introduce ourselves. I am Doctor Hugo Strange and you have been brought to my facility because of your disgusting crimes against Gotham."

"Your facility?"

"Yes my dear. The new Arkham. Arkham Asylum is dead. Destroyed by your beloved Joker in his quest to destroy Batman. This is Arkham City. My Arkham City," he said proudly, holding back his shoulders and pushing out his chest.

"There was nothing wrong with Arkham Asylum", she argued. "At least they had some manners and didn't tie people to beds when they are perfectly capable of walking!"

"Ah yes", said Dr Strange. "About that. I am afraid it is necessary my dear. It is for your own safety as you are unable to walk at this present moment". He smiled at her confused expression. "The nerve gas has yet to wear off and I must say it has been a while since I've seen such a loverly creature, such as yourself, tied to a bed". She winced at his sly smile.

"So the gas back in my cell, that was you?"

He smiled. "Yes indeed. It was protocol for all high secure inmates to be transported by the use of nerve gas. Much less... how shall I put it...ah yes. Much less _eventful"_.

"I could have died!" She shrieked.

"Now now my dear, there is no need to be so dramatic. You really think I'd kill you in such a monotonous manor. No, it is not my intension to kill you. I think the Joker has managed that on his own".

"My puddin' would never kill me", she shouted.

Strange stopped. He stared intently at her, studying her face, before leaning back into a chair and pushing his glasses up his nose.

"You don't know either", he stated, smiling slightly. "Neither of you are aware of it". He let out a low chuckle. "Oh this is beautiful".

"What is", she asked, her anger beginning to rise. "You tell me what the hell is going on, right this minute. Or I'll tell my Joker and he'll wipe that smile off your god damn face!"

"I'm surprised you have such passion my dear, especially in your state".

She forced herself to relax. "What state?"

"I have studied your blood, your vital statistics. But I won't spoil your fun my dear. It'll be very amusing watching you discover what has happened to you. Just as it will be equally entertaining watching him discover the cause".

"What sate?" She asked even louder, cutting her wrists on the leather straps holding her down and remembering what had happened in the showers back at the Asylum - Surely Strange couldn't know of the pain she had experienced and the red spots which covered her skin. Hopefully no one else did as the jumpsuit was still keeping them from view.

Strange ignored her, instead choosing to turn around and call a guard to let her out, explaining how the session was over.

"Oh before you go my dear I have had the liberty of providing a group of doctors for Arkham City. They are in the Church should you require them".

"I don't need doctors you creep!" She shouted back as more guards came to wheel her away. She could hear his laughter echoing around the room until she was wheeled out into a large court yard full of make shift lines of barbed wire. She was oblivious to anything else, instead telling herself over and over that Strange's jab at doctors and the Joker killing her was just to press her buttons and held no real truth. What was happening to her body was just a relapse, a sign that she couldn't handle being so far away from the Joker. She'd be fine once they were together again.

She was just imagining their happy reunion when they came to a sudden halt.

"Unlocking restraints," a guard stated, coming closer to her and eying her cautiously. More guards came to her side and kept their guns trained on her as the first guard unclasped the leather ties holding her to the bed.

"Restraints lifted", said the guard. "Preparing prisoner for transportation". He grabbed her arms, forcing her to sit up.

"Don't get any ideas", he told her. She stuck her tongue out at him. Then laughed at the surprise on his face. In return he pulled her to her feet then suddenly let her go, the momentum of her standing up causing her to fall to the ground.

But their laughter died in her ears.

For the pain she had experienced back at the Asylum had returned and was spreading through her spine towards her finger tips and down to her hips. She bit her lip and groaned.

"Oi," said the guard. "On your feet Prisoner". He nudged her with his foot. "I said GET UP".

She couldn't argue or even defend her self the pain was so strong. She tried to push herself up but he couldn't feel her hands.

The guard, thinking she was playing dumb, full on kicked her in her ribs. "Get. Up", he growled dangerously.

She tried to tell him to go do one, but instead of the insults she had hoped would fall from her mouth, there came a great whooping cough. The guards fell back, not sure of how to react. She looked up at them, hoping to tell them to quit staring but only more hacking sounds followed.

Being a doctor and all, she knew this wasn't good.

"What do we do?" Asked a guard, looking to the others.

"Just get her out there man, then she's not our problem".

"But how", asked another. "She can't even stand".

"Carry her", ordered one. "Just pick her up and throw her in and close the door. Then we can go for a beer".

"Ok", they agreed. As they approached her, she tried to push them away or fight them off as they each grabbed part of her body, but her struggles were futile against the thick armor they wore. And the pain was getting worse. She was now finding it hard to breath and every time she tried to speak, she found she could only cough. Each one vibrating through her chest.

They carried her towards a large set of metal doors, which opened with low hiss and without a second thought they through her, unceremoniously, into the snow.

It was freezing. What the hell was he doing here again? The snow had begun to fall a little faster and was now beginning to stick to the empty streets of Gotham. The package the guards had thrown at him had contained his attire, which he wore with pride, but was useless against the falling snow.

He had been wandering around the streets for a few days now, so far he had covered what once had been Park Row, the subway and The Bowery, but there was no one else. He was the only person in Strange's Arkham City, and he was getting pretty board.

There wasn't even a dog or a cat he could torment for a couple of hours.

He also hadn't eaten. Although this didn't particularly bother him - he was used to going days without food, his job often required it and Harley was no cook - with nothing else to do his thoughts has progressed to something to eat.

"Where would there be food", he asked himself, as he wandered across to the Industrial District. The buildings around him looked as if they had been left empty for weeks and lights from the signs were begging to flicker, but as he looked up towards the old Police Department something caught his eye.

Smoke.

What was smoking in Arkham City?

Ah yes. The Sionis Steel Mill. A place of fire and greed. Black Mask was always full of cupidity.

'Well not for long', he thought, striding through a deserted Gotham City towards his new home, with a new spring in his step.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the next chapter, sorry it always takes so long but I'm just getting used to college life. Reviews are always welcome too xx**

The Last Smile

He looked down at all the bodies littering the floor, blood pooling around them and a sadistic smirk spreading across his face. _Well what dya know, there really are 101 uses for a broken pencil._

True, it now meant that there were no guys left to work the steel mill, but it also meant some peace and quite - which he needed since the loud screams had left his ears ringing.

Unfortunately, Black Mask had made a run for it as soon as he wondered in, not only leaving the men behind at the mercy of the Joker, but also leaving the place way too hot and no way to cool it down, so his shirt and coat were gradually sticking to his back.

_I'll be damned if Black Mask's gonna give me sweat marks_, he grumbled, picking up the rest of his pencil out of the bloody puddle and wiping it on a handkerchief as to keep his slacks clean, _And I'll be damned if I'll wander that god damn city again!_

But clowns can only take so much heat, so he was left to walk around the Amusement Mile, cooling off his heated skin along finding food - it had been a few days since his last meal at Arkham and even calling that food was pushing it - and his stomach was beginning to rumble. But since he was the only the other person in Arkham City, he doubted there would be anything edible.

He had just dawdled over to the old Church, when he started hearing things - it first started as a slight whimpering, so low he almost missed it, but it then progressed to a dull thud as he drew nearer.

Peering down a narrow ally, he didn't miss the deathly crunch as he watched a man in a Blackgate Prinson uniform, smash the skull of another prisoner, watching the dark blood splatter against the ally walls. He giggled as the man looked at the shattered mess in disgust, the sound causing the man to look his way.

"What you staring at Punk", the man shouted to him.

He smiled a cruel smile - obviously this idiot couldn't see him in the dark, otherwise he would've held his tongue.

"Why nothing my good man", he replied in his most gentlemanly manor. "I was simply following the sweet sound of breaking bones".

"Well get out of my sight", the man said. "Unless you want your skull kicked in too".

He couldn't help but let a laugh escape him. The man looked livid and grabbed him by his collar, lifting him up against the wall, but he was too quick and pulled out his broken pencil and held it against the corner of the man left eye, threatening to push it into the eye socket.

"Now I wouldn't do that if I were you", he growled, stepping into the light.

The man dropped him at once and cowered back against the opposite wall.

"Oh my god", he whimpered. "The Joker". He gazed up at him nervously and eyed the pencil he was still holding. "I'm so sorry. Please, please forgive me," he mumbled, all of his arrogance disappearing.

"Now that's more like it", The Joker said, shaking himself off and straightening his suit. "Lucky for you I'm feeling rather...lonely". The man looked down at his shoes.

"Ah, ah, ah", he said grabbing the man's chin and forcing him to look him in the eye. "Up here pumpkin". He held the pencil up to the man's face again. "Now I have a couple of questions that need answering, or do I have to find another pencil sharpener?"

"No, no", the man panicked. "I'll talk".

"Good", he said happily, placing the pencil back in his breast pocket. "Now stand up - your in the presence of greatness after all."

The man stood up slowly.

"Now then Mr...?"

"Blade, Sir".

"Blade. It seems that you and I are the only ones in this place. Am I correct?"

"Well...yes Sir. For now Sir".

He looked at the man expectantly, raising one eyebrow.

"They'll be more of us Sir. We are just the first. The rest are being transported and introduced gradually Sir. You know...to not make a scene".

"The rest?" He asked.

"The rest of Blackgate Sir. And Arkham."

"Blackgate," he said thoughtfully. "Well that's handy isn't it. At least I'll have some company.". He tapped his chin thoughtfully and gazed down at the bloody mess at his feet.

"You know Blade, I'm begging to like you, so I think I'll overlook your earlier...disrespect. But I won't be so generous next time". He let the unsaid threat linger a little while.

"Yes Mr Joker Sir", replied Blade, shaking slightly.

"There's a good trooper", he smiled, slapping Blade on the back and walking back out of the ally. "Now if we are to have some company, I think it's time we made this place a little more cheerful, don't you?"

"Erm.. I suppose so", Blade said uncertainly, following in the Joker's wake.

"You suppose so", he said, spinning around, eyes blazing.

"Yes, yes Sir", Blade corrected.

"Good. Now find something to give the guys from Blackgate a smile, for when they arrive. No doubt they'll be a little disheartened by coming here. But we'll show them it's just a laugh. Oooo it'll be so much fun!" He clapped his hands together and giggled again.

Blade looked around the empty buildings. "But Mr Joker...Sir...The buildings are all ruined".

"So?"

"There probably isn't anything left".

"Oh don't be such a humdrum! There's bound to be something. Just a few little ticks - like paint - will do the trick", he began to stride off purposefully, but stopped. "Oh and Blade, don't come back empty handed".

Blade gazed after him, the street lights illuminating the purple suit, and listening to the faint whistling as he waltzed back down the amusement mile, secretly wishing that the sound of broken bones hadn't brought the Joker into his life.

She couldn't stop shivering.

The snow had began to make small heaps around her curled form, but she couldn't bring herself to get up off the ground - she was too weak.

Even the slightest movement of her rib cage brought on the onslaught of wheezing and spluttering and her chest ached with the effort of it.

She'd managed to bring her knees up to her chest to help trap some form of heat, but her Arkham uniform did little to keep out the cold and her fingers were now so numb she could barley move them, she was just trying to move her hand beneath her head so she could move them again when she heard shouting.

She tried to tilt her head up towards the sound without moving her body too much, but she felt the fire begin deep in her lungs and could do nothing as her body involuntary convulsed as a result of her coughing.

The sound of which must have attracted attention, for when she opened her eyes after, she was staring into the faces of a large group of men all staring at her curiously.

"It's a girl", one stated, half his face painted black.

"What's a girl doing in here?" Another asked. As her eyes began to focus, she realized how they all had half of their faces painted black. The same with their Arkham uniforms.

_What the hell? _

"Who cares!" One man cried. "It's a girl. I ain't seen a girl in weeks."

"Yeh", said another. "She must be real warm".

"Nah, she looks as if she's about to faint. Look how blue her skin is". The man started to reach towards her, when suddenly the sound of a gun shot echoed around them and the man fell to the floor in a lifeless heap, his blood splattering across her uniform.

Then there was panic.

The men around her started shouting, looking up at the buildings wildly as more of them dropped to the ground.

Then there was silence.

Luckily she hadn't been hit by one of the failing bullets, but the piles of blood seeping towards her kick started her adrenaline and forced her to sit up.

The men who had just surrounded her seconds before were lying dead next to her.

She looked around to see where the bullets had come from, feeling another coughing fit brewing in her lungs, but the blood from the dead men had made its way to her. She stood up, with difficulty and backed herself against the nearest wall, doubling over as she started coughing again.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped back in shock, letting out a cry at what she saw.

The man who had touched her wore a clown mask, which covered the whole of his face and his jumper was a dark purple.

_He looks like a clown._

But he also jumped back in shock at the sight of her.

"Your a girl". He stated.

She gave him her best 'drop dead' look.

"What are doing here", he asked, a look of genuine concern crossing his face.

She tried to talk, but the coughs has left her breathless.

"What's your name?" The man tried again.

"Harley", she managed to wheeze.

"Harley Quinn?"

She nodded.

"Oh..erm...you better come with me", he said, but she shook her head vigorously, backing away from him.

"Stay, away from me", she breathed, her voice crackling as she kept down her coughs.

"You'll be safer with me, these guys haven't seen a woman for months, maybe even longer and there'd be no chance of Two Face getting hold of you".

_Ah Two face. The whole black and white thing - How could I have missed the signs. _

"But most of all", the man said. "I think The Joker would like to see you".


End file.
